Myra Johnson - Her Hill Country Cowboy

Then she noticed the two anxious faces peering through the rear window of the pickup. A solemn-faced little boy held fast to a smaller girl and patted her shoulder. Even at this distance, Christina could see the girl’s chin quivering as she swiped wetness from her cheeks.

Poor kid.

But what a great dad.

Christina’s irritation eased. Formerly a social worker who’d championed children in trouble, she’d encountered too many fathers who didn’t deserve the title. How could she not admire a man willing to risk life and limb to protect his kids from witnessing a poor, defenseless creature crushed beneath the wheels of an automobile?

On his way back to the pickup, the man caught Christina’s eye and tipped his hat, briefly revealing sun-kissed caramel-colored hair in need of a trim. His crooked smile, combined with the happy cheers of his kids as they hung out the driver’s-side window, more than made up for the alarm Christina had suffered as a result of her abrupt stop.

Time to settle her nerves and get back on the road so she could meet her new employer. But when she turned the key in the ignition, the only response from under the hood was a rumbling groan. Another try, and the rumble faded to a sputtering cough.

“Not now. Oh, please, not now!” Christina slapped the steering wheel as a fresh surge of anxiety threatened to choke her.

Gracie whined. Rising on her haunches, the dog licked Christina’s ear and rested a paw on her thigh.

“I know, I know.” Forcing slow, deep breaths, Christina sank her fingers deep into the soft fur behind Gracie’s ears.

The man in the cowboy hat appeared at her window. “Everything okay, ma’am?”

“I—I can’t get my car started.” Christina despised the helpless-female quaver in her voice.

“Pop the hood. I’ll take a look.”

“That’s okay. I can—”

Too late. He’d already moved around to the front of the car. Oh, well, as a newcomer in a strange town, it wasn’t as if Christina had a lot of options. A call to the auto club could mean waiting an hour or more, especially this far away from a good-sized city, and she was already a day overdue to start her new job.

Wearily, she found the hood release and pulled the lever. Now all she could see in the space between the dashboard and the hood was the man’s strong, capable-looking hands. He fiddled with a car part here, another one there, then told her to try the ignition again.

The car started right up. Christina released a shaky cry of relief as the man slammed down the hood. With an elbow resting on the window frame, she called a relieved “Thank you!”

“No problem. It was kinda my fault, anyway. And thank you for stopping.” He tilted his head toward the kids watching from the pickup. “If I hadn’t rescued that critter, I’d have caught all kinds of what-for from those two.”

“Well, we couldn’t have that.” A pang of envy caught Christina by surprise. Did his wife know how blessed she was to be married to such a caring husband and father? With a quiet sigh, she reached for the gearshift. “I should get going. No more, uh, critters in the road, are there?”

The man looked both ways. “Coast is clear.” He hesitated. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Christina attempted a light laugh. “What gave me away?”

“No front license plate. Texas cars and trucks have both front and rear.”

Right. And in Arkansas they didn’t. Two days on the road and Little Rock already felt like a lifetime ago.

“If you need directions or anything...”

Christina pulled her lower lip between her teeth. She’d been driving almost nonstop since leaving the motel north of Dallas that morning, and she only wanted to reach her destination, meet her new employer and start settling in. Unwilling to risk the GPS getting her lost in the middle of nowhere, she glanced up with a tentative smile. “Maybe you could tell me if I’m heading in the right direction for Serenity Hills Guest Ranch.”

One eye narrowed. “You have a reservation?”

“Sort of.” It wasn’t any of this stranger’s business, but her employment arrangement did include the use of a private cabin.

Dipping his head, the man looked past Christina and frowned toward Gracie. “Then you should know the ranch has a no-pets policy.”

“Gracie isn’t a pet. She’s a registered service dog.” Guess he hadn’t noticed the blue vest Gracie wore.

“Be that as it may, you still can’t—”

A car horn blared behind them, and Christina startled. In the rearview mirror, she glimpsed a dusty tan SUV.

“Hey, Seth,” the whiskered driver bellowed through his open window. “Do your jawin’ somewhere’s else, will ya?”

“Cool your jets, LeRoy. The lady just had a little car trouble. Pull around if you’re in a hurry.”

Car trouble she wouldn’t have had if Seth hadn’t forced her to stop so he could move a turtle out of danger. And now he was telling her they wouldn’t allow Gracie at the ranch? Obviously, he was ignorant about laws regarding service animals.

And obviously, she’d misjudged his solicitous nature.

As the SUV eased around them, Christina gripped the steering wheel and shot a curt glance at the man at her window. “Thanks again for getting my car started. I’m sure I can find my way from here.”

“But the dog—”

She didn’t give him a chance to finish. Shifting into Drive, she left the do-gooder cowboy and his pickup behind. This transition was hard enough without letting an opinionated—and clearly uninformed—stranger rattle her.

So much for her initial admiration for a kindhearted dad who rescued defenseless animals. She could only pray she didn’t cross his path again anytime soon.

* * *

Seth Austin ground his teeth. Yes, the guest ranch had been short on business this summer, but the last thing he needed was a lodger who thought she could ignore the rules.

Although he was pretty certain he would have remembered if they’d had a reservation for a Tuesday night. Most of their guests arrived on Thursday or Friday for a weekend stay, or else on Sunday if they had reservations for a full week.

Then it hit him. His grandmother had hired a new housekeeper, who should have reported yesterday, only something had come up and she’d postponed her arrival for a day.

“Please, please, please, Lord,” Seth mumbled as he strode to his pickup. “Don’t let that woman be her.”

She sure didn’t look like any housekeeper they’d ever had on the place. Too pretty, for one thing—and it galled Seth to realize he’d even noticed. Shoulder-length golden-blond hair, eyes the color of fresh-brewed coffee. And just as potent, apparently, because Seth couldn’t feel more wired if he’d polished off a whole pot of his grandmother’s strong brew.

“Daddy?” Nine-year-old Joseph scrambled out of the way as Seth climbed into the cab. “Is the turtle gonna be all right?”

“Sure thing. He’s probably happily munching on dandelions by now.” Seth twisted around to make sure Eva, his six-year-old, was buckled into her booster seat behind him.

Joseph crawled between the seats and buckled up in his spot next to Eva. “Who was that lady in the car, Daddy?”

“Just somebody new in town.”

Eva sniffled. “She had a big dog.”

“I know, honey. But it’s gone now. Nothing to worry about.” Laying his Stetson on the passenger seat, Seth sent his little girl a reassuring smile through the rearview mirror, then belted in behind the wheel. On the worrisome chance the woman was the new housekeeper, he’d be sending her right back to town with directions to Doc Ingram’s so she could board that beast of hers at Juniper Bluff’s only veterinary clinic. Service dog or not, Seth wasn’t about to let the animal anywhere near his kids.